Category Archives: silly
What you are witnessing is real. Do not judge.
I needed a dose of nostalgia for some reason this weekend, and so I started Friday night, and continued until Sunday morning at 2:32 PM. And managed to watch the entire first season of…
wait for it…
THE COSBY SHOW.
I needed me a little Theo, a little Vanessa, a dash of Denise, some Sondra, lovable Rudy, and of course Clair and Cliff. All the heavenly Huxtables on my television screen, streaming from Hulu like manna from heaven.
It was exactly what I needed.
I don’t know why I needed to watch the show, however, as I sat there watching each and every episode the thing that struck me was how much they all loved each other. You could just tell, from beginning to end of each episode, that it was all done with love. And I get that they are television characters…not real at all.
But I remember growing up, and when this show was on the air for the first time, and just really, really, REALLY wishing that my family was as centered, as loving, as fun as this family. I won’t go into what a horrible childhood I had, because it wasn’t horrible at all. It was functionally dysfunctional. And I’m all the better for it. We all seem to get along much better as adults than independently-minded kids. Go figure.
Anyway, it was a nice blast from the past to visit the Huxtable clan, and see them all in their silliness. And yes, I will probably continue and watch the rest of the seasons at some point. Because it makes me happy.
God bless you, Huxtable clan and Hulu Streaming.
It was a foggy evening, and there were no sounds coming from the villages nearby. The castle’s lights had been vanquished, for the enemy was drawing ever so near. People were speaking in hushed voices, afraid their voices would carry above the hills and waken the monster. Still, there was a relative calm echoing through the halls, as everyone knew it was only a a matte of time before the attack.
Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like tortuous days, each person a prisoner in their minds, never sure where disaster would strike. Glances were stolen to check in with loved ones, to make sure they were all right, and hearts warmed for a brief second, but then panic returned.
In the distance, a belch of flame lit up the night sky. The dragon was on the prowl, and he was hungry.
The people scurried about the castle looking for safety, some sort of cover, some sort of protection, but the castle’s thin walls were no match for the dragon. And only moments later did the dragon’s awesome frame fill the horizon, a mean look in his eye. Sending belching flame after flame towards the castle rock, people were incinerated instantly, leaving only four knights to save the day.
Make that three, because as the dragon swooped down, it swallowed whole one of the knights, whetting its appetite for human flesh. The knights knew they needed reinforcements. The sounded the alarm, and the horns filled the sky, barely audible above the horrible din from the dragon’s roar. Hopefully, the neighboring kingdoms would hear and respond.
And they did. Moments later, Iron Man swooped out of the sky, followed by Astronaut Mickey, Super Grover, A B-52 Bomber, and another knight, the Dark Knight, all coming to defend the castle against this horrible, evil dragon.
They launched their assault, trading blows with the dragon from all angles. Astronaut Mickey was no match, and the B-52 Bomber got in a few lucky shots before plummeting to the ground in a fiery death. Iron Man’s suit stood up to the dragon for a while, but even he was outmatched. The Dark Knight deployed every trick available, and used his mind to think like the dragon, anticipating his next move so he could counter, and proved to be a strong foe. The dragon was unsure of himself, but began making careless mistakes. He knew he had been outwitted. He retreated to the safety of his cave, to await another dawn, another chance to overtake the castle and make all its inhabitants his dinner.
And this is how I spent Christmas Eve. With three of my nephews, engaging in the most epic battle ever.
TONIGHT: WEST SIDE STORY as presented by the End of the World Players….
The world will end tonight
With clouds of doom and fire raining down
We’ll all die after tonight
So, F it all, let’s get drunk and go to town!!
Today, the world is somewhat rainy
A normal kind of Thursday
That opened with dawn’s light
But here we are
The final hours circling our star!
MARIA: Un momento, Papa.
OFFSTAGE: No tenemos un minuto! Hay que prepararse para el fin del mundo, y el fuego del infierno y la condenación!
MARIA: Si, Papa, si.
We’ll all just die tonight
With suns and moons all over the place
The bits of the sky
Will burn out every eye
Leaving horrible scars upon my face!!
Today, the world was just an address
A place for us to live in,
But if the Mayans were right….
Just get with me
Cause tomorrow, you’ll be consequence-free!
We’re done tonight!
Whenever I take my evening walk, I pass by this sock on the sidewalk. Just one baby sock. Left. Abandoned. Its mate at home I’m sure is wondering where it is.
I wonder why this sock remains. Enough people walk down this street…maybe someone might want to add it to their sock collection. Maybe they would be its rightful owner and want to take it home. Whatever the case, the sock remains. I’ve even thought about picking it up…but yet I don’t.
I’ve come to expect the sock now. I know that after I cross three streets, there it will be, waiting for me. Who knows who the owner is. Who knows if it was a boy or a girl. This sock is indifferent. To the rain, the scorching heat, the loud traffic noise. It’s simply indifferent.
Maybe, as I sit here personifying woven thread, the sock is not so much indifferent as it is tolerant. It knows that there will be exhaust, that people will discuss all sorts of things as they pass over it, that human and animal alike may give it a passing glance and yet move on.
Strange, I think of this sock as a friend now. I look forward to seeing it when I walk past. And just like friends, I know that someday that the sock will be gone. Who knows where…perhaps to a different life. Perhaps to a new owner? Maybe its rightful owner? Or maybe to visit the other abandoned socks at the Sock Hop at the city dump.
In any case, carry forth, little sock. You’re the bravest sock I know.